The Worst Word
by loubug14
Summary: Hermione Granger was a nice girl.


_A/N - I love Sirimione. I don't know that it's my OTP, but it's definitely up there. That said, I think Sirimione in many ways goes against fan fiction's general characterization of Sirius: a hedonist and womanizer. We all love the fluff of a happy ending, but does that always jive with the typical characterizations of Sirius? This is my exploration of what happens without those fluffy endings, and I hate myself a little bit for it._

* * *

Hermione Granger was a nice girl.

Her clothes were fashionable but correct: blouses came to her clavicle, skirts fell below her knee, and heels were always conservative. She was never seen outside of her apartment with her hair down; it was always neatly tied back in a bun or a braid. She rarely wore make-up.

She wrote thank you notes on time for the presents she received on her birthday and at Yule. She donated duplicate books she received as gifts to the Hogwarts Library. She was a dutiful Ministry employee, an Undersecretary in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, and she always remembered birthday gifts for her assistant's twin boys.

When she was in public, she never drank more than one glass of wine with dinner; in private, she might indulge in a second. If her weekends were not spent with Harry and Ron and their families, she curled up with take away, tea, and a new book. Crookshanks was the one indulgence in her life and pocketbook; he had cream for breakfast, fresh liver for dinner, and the most expensive Kneazle treats she could find in Diagon Alley. She spoiled him rotten, and he, in turn, showered her with affection.

If you asked her, Hermione Granger would say she lived a content life.

* * *

 _Hermione Granger was not having a nice evening._

 _The annual celebration of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes expansions always fell on the weekend of or after April Fools. It also served as a wake of sorts; George could involve Fred in the success of their business even after his death, and reminisce on their childhood of pranking and mischief. This year, George and Ron were celebrating their expansion into the American market, with a storefront in the magical community nearest Ilvermorny. Normally she could let her hair down at these events—indulge in that second glass of wine—but there was no hope for that tonight. She sipped her wine, smoothed her skirt, and forced herself not to look for him._

* * *

Hermione Granger dated nice guys.

After her amicable but quite public split from Ron immediately after the war, she had shied away from relationships. Slowly, after she felt like enough time had passed between the trauma of the war, the loss of her parents, and her split with Ron, she began accepting dates. She did not sleep around, and she was not a casual dater. She was shrewd in who she allowed to take her out; only those she felt she could hold a conversation with over dinner were initially accepted.

Despite his ardent pursuit of her, Cormac McLaggen had not made the cut.

After a three date period, Hermione either broke off the relationship completely or entered into a long-term one. Over the last five years, she had maintained three such relationships for anywhere from four to six months with Terry Boot, Oliver Wood, and, most recently, Theodore Nott. Those relationships had consisted of dinners out, cultural events and Ministry fundraisers, and, occasionally, very vanilla sex. The relationships always ended the same: three months ago she had told Theo that he was sweet, smart, and lovely to look at, but she didn't see their relationship going anywhere. He had agreed wholeheartedly.

In the deepest recesses of her heart, she pined for the kinds of love her friends had. Harry and Ginny's childhood romance had grown into a deep love and affection, and their house in Godric's Hollow brimmed with laughter and hugs. Ron and Lavender had a warm, sweet comfortableness between them, which was most evident nowadays when Ron laid his hands on his wife's swelling stomach and smiled. Remus and Tonks had a relationship unlike any other—the bond of a werewolf and his mate was so immersed in magic that they knew each other's moods without talking or looked up and smiled before the other entered a room. It was literally love at first site.

But Hermione Granger was a logical woman, and she knew that such relationships were the exceptions rather than the norm.

* * *

 _It was an accident when she finally spotted him. She'd decided to go for that second glass of wine and had locked eyes with him as she made her way to the bar. It was a brief moment, and he quickly turned away, back toward his date and latest bedfellow. She was a buxom brunette who had worked with George and Ron on their American expansion, and he had offered to show her the ropes of Wizarding Britain. International cooperation, he called it. His arm circled her waist, his hand skirting her hip. He leaned in and whispered something to her. She laughed loudly, and smirked sideways at him. He playfully nipped her ear._

* * *

Sirius Black was not a nice guy.

He was loud and drank too much. He wore jeans unless dress robes were required, and even then he managed to make his robes seem scandalous. He smoked Muggle cigarettes with no regard for his or anyone else's health, drank expensive Muggle scotch, and slept around indiscriminately.

When the Veil had thrown him back into the Department of Mysterious—later determined to happen at the exact moment Molly Weasley obliterated Bellatrix Lestrange—Sirius had suffered through two weeks of tests before moving into Grimmauld with Harry and had since lived each day as if it was his last.

This seemed reasonable, as he had been both alive and free to live that life only about 60% since the day he'd been born, and more than half of that as a child.

Apparently living each day as if it was his last consisted of a lot of sex, particularly the kind that lacked strings. He had not had a relationship that lasted longer than a week since his return, and his definition of relationship began and ended in his sheets. Surprisingly, women not only immediately understood this but seemed to harbor him no ill-will after their brief affairs ended. Sirius was a passionate lover, if his failed silencing charms where any indication, and he coupled that with an irresistible boyish charm; the women who left his bed considered their time with him well-spent.

Sirius Black had no regard for propriety of any kind.

Sirius Black made Hermione Granger weak in the knees and wet in the knickers.

* * *

 _Hermione turned to set down her glass and found herself facing Anthony Goldstein, former DA member and current Wizengamot legal consultant. He smiled and inquired after her most recent piece of legislation regarding centaurs; he was well-versed in the various projects of her office, having looked over almost all of them as part of his job. Grateful for the distraction from Sirius and his date, she asked Anthony how much he knew about concepts of land ownership in centaur culture. He listened politely as she started a well-rehearsed speech._

* * *

Hermione hadn't really been nice at all. Not that night at least.

When she fell into bed with Sirius one night mid-February, she had no misconceptions. She knew as he peeled off her trousers, Scotch on his breath and fire in his eyes, that this was meaningless sex to him. He had talked with her all night, and he moaned her name against her neck, but she wasn't sure that he had processed it was _her_ and not some other curly-haired brunette named Hermione. She knew when he entered her that he'd had too much to drink, simultaneously mourning Regulus and celebrating his brother's birthday—he'd never have taken her to bed otherwise. She knew that, despite what she'd say in the morning, she hadn't had that much at all. She knew when he came the first time that she was a line he had never wanted to cross: a flatmate, friend, and confidante— _not_ a sexual conquest. She knew, during their second round, after her third orgasm, that their friendship was so much more for her than it was for him and that this intimacy was what she had been searching for, what she so desperately desired.

And she knew when he woke up, horrified at himself for taking advantage of such a nice girl, terrified of ruining their friendship by his drunk and callous actions, that she'd never have it again. Because despite their friendship, despite the ways Sirius could talk to her about anything and everything, she knew he did not love her the way she loved him. She knew he had no desire to settle into a relationship like the one she wanted. No desire to settle for her.

She lied to him, agreeing that they'd have too much to drink and it was all a mistake and let's forget this night ever happened. She lied to him, saying she too believed their friendship was worth more than a chance on a relationship.

She lied to herself when she said she didn't intend it to go that far, and that she didn't take advantage of her friend. She was a _nice_ girl.

* * *

 _Ten minutes later, Anthony asked if she'd like to continue their conversation over dinner the following week. Hermione smiled, and if it was a little too forced she told herself it had simply been a long night. He was smart. He could definitely carry a conversation through dinner. She accepted his invitation._

 _After all, Anthony was a nice guy._


End file.
